Be One With Your Captain's Hollow
by addictedanimelover
Summary: He felt so weak when the soul reaper touched him like that. Like he cared for a HOLLOW. Hisagi x Kensei's hollow (Shirosei)
1. Chapter 1

**So…..I'm a huge fan of the ship Hisagi x Kensei's hollow….heres the problem. I CAN'T FIND A SINGLE FANFIC ABOUT THEM!**

 **So I decided to write my own even though Kensei's hollow will probably a little OOC. I named him Shirosei…kind of like Ichigo's hollow Shirosaki. Many people won't read this…since it's not really a ship think about, but I just had to write this! So if you did like it, please let me know! I might write the last, second chapter then!**

 **DON'T FORGET! SHIROSEI IS KENSEI'S HOLLOW.**

Shirosei remembers clenching his fists at his sides to hold himself still. "Ya don't know what yer offering."

He had never wanted to fall for the weakling that his master had fallen for. But…here and now…he was pretty much begging the kid to just drop his pants and let him fuck him.

He just couldn't force the kid though. Maybe it was because Kensei had affected him, or just his human like feelings…but he couldn't rape the kid.

"I've got a pretty good idea," Shuuhei said in return. His expression was intense, but Shirosei was helpless to interpret it until Shuuhei reached up, cradled his Captain's hollow's face in both hands like it was something precious and rare, and kissed him.

He felt so weak when the soul reaper touched him like that.

Like he cared for a **HOLLOW**.

Gently, and without heat. "Shirosei. You need this."

His lips were cool. His hands were cool, strong and cool, so blessedly cool that Shirosei wanted to dive into him and stay there until this wretched heat had been leached away.

"Shu," he whispered in his watery voice (just like Shirosaki's)-just that, nothing more. A low, desperate plea, and he did not even know if he was begging Shuuhei to go, to go now while he still could, or to stay forever.

Both,perhaps.

Hisagi did not leave. Shuuhei dropped his hands from Shirosei's face, engendering a moment of dizzying panic in the hollow, but he was only dropping them to Shirosei's waist, to push up under his shirt until he found bare, pale skin.

Shirosei was conscious of a gasping breath, and then he was moving without conscious decision or thought. His hands on Shuuhei's shoulders, tight enough to bruise; pushing Hisagi back against the bulkhead with his own superior strength. Shuuhei's startled face, eyes wide open, lips parted before Shirosei bent to taste them. No dry, sexless kiss this time; this was hot, open-mouthed, the taste and the feel of him _…_ _unimaginable._

As Hisagi opened himself to Shirosei's ruthless assault, his hands gripping tighter, as though determined to prove the truth of his offer.

His Captain's hollow needed this.

Who was he to deny such a need?

When he finally pulled away,the black-haired male was looking up at him, breathless and flushed. Shirosei thought that he had never seen anything so compelling. "Let me," he breathed, hands gripping Shuuhei's shirt, crumpling fabric. "Let me-"

"Go ahead."

The thin fabric parted easily in his hands. Shuuhei let out a surprised little breath of laughter as Shirosei threw aside the torn scraps. "Not quite what I meant, Shirosei."

The sound of his name on Shuuhei's lips made Shirosei shudder, but there was a distant little prickle of shame at the words.

The lieutedant shouldn't be muttering his recently given name. No…he should be saying the name of his other half.

His better half.

At his utter lack of control; he could not change it, but-

And Shuuhei must have sensed that, somehow, because his expression softened. "I didn't mean it like that," he said. "C'mere."

"I cannot-" Language, and sense, seemed very far away just then, but it was important that he explain, that he give the younger male a last chance.

"I'm a hollow….I can't be gentle."

Shuuhei's expression held no fear, only warmth. He nodded. "I understand, Shirosei . It's all right. Kensei already explained."

It was not, it was manifestly _not_ 'all right', but Shirosei had reached the limits of his fraying control. His own shirt met the same fate as Shuuhei's in short order, and then they were pressed together, bare-skinned to the waist, Shirosei's fingers digging into Hisagi's cool skin with bruising force. Shuuhei's hands slipped between them, his nimble fingers making short work of the fastenings on first his own pants, then Shirosei's. He shoved them down and kicked off his boots-Shirosei himself was already barefoot-and then they were both nude.

Shirosei kissed him and kissed him-on some level, he was aware that he was being too forceful, that he was pressing too hard, that his master's lover's fragile soul reaper body could not withstand his full strength without injury, but it did not seem to matter to his hands, which scrabbled at Shuuhei's bare skin until it was scored and bruised, or his mouth, which attacked Shuuhei's thin throat, the curve of his neck, his shoulder with such force that he almost broke the skin.

Shuuhei did not protest or attempt to push him away. On the contrary; he was breathing Shirosei's name, over and over again, rutting lightly against him; he was erect, as was Shirosei, and when their members brushed against each other he cursed in a low, vehement voice.

It was good, so good, but it was not _enough_.

Shirosei pulled away abruptly, and his hands seemed to know what his mind did not; he spun Shuuhei around and slammed him against the bulkhead; Shuuhei's cheek connected forcefully with the metal wall, his hands going out to brace himself.

This was good; this was better. From this angle, he could penetrate the kid and that would be-

"Shirosei." Shuuhei's husky voice; impossible to ignore, even in this state.

"In my pocket. Right-hand side. It'll make things easier."

Shuuhei's pants were in a pile on the floor, and every inch of Shirosei screamed at the seconds it took to locate and untangle them. There, in the right-hand pocket: a small bottle of personal lubricant. That would indeed make things easier.

How could he completely forget such a thing?

His fingers felt clumsy, but he got the lid open with his black fingernails well enough. The liquid that spilled onto his fingers was ice cool, and had a pleasing texture; divining its purpose, he applied it to himself, slid his slick fingers up the cleft of Shuuhei's ass and pressed inside.

Shuuhei swore again, letting his head fall forward against the bulkhead, but Shirosei could barely hear him. Shuuhei was not cool around his fingers; he was hot, as hot as his looks, as hot as the fires that were consuming Shirosei deep inside; hot enough, perhaps, to quench him.

He pulled his fingers out. It was not enough, he was distantly aware. It was not enough, there should be more preparation, more gentleness for this at least-but being a hollow he quickly forgot about it and shrugged it off.

His body seemed to move of its own accord. His hand on Shuuhei's hip, the other on his own shaft, guiding it into Shuuhei, breaching him-

It was unbearably slow, and the sensation was utterly overwhelming. His hips pushed forward of their own volition, and abruptly he was buried to the hilt in Shuuhei's body.

Shuuhei let out a low, drawled out broken noise. Against the wall, his hands clenched into fists.

Shirosei felt a strange cold wash over him, as though a bucket of ice water had been applied to his skin. "Shu," he said. His blue tongue felt thick in his mouth, his heartbeat rapid, his thoughts slow.

Shuuhei let out a slow breath, then said shakily, "It's all right."

He unclenched his fist and wrapped his fingers around one of Shirosei's hands, brought it down to his groin; his erection was flagging, but still present. Shuuhei sighed again when he felt the hollow's touch, a better sound this time. "Shirosei, it's..ah!, it's all right. Keep going."

Well….if the kid said so…he would without stopping.

Shirosei kept going. He endeavored to match the rhythm of his hand on Shuuhei to that of his hips, and he must have been successful, from the sounds that escaped Shuuhei's mouth. For himself, he felt as though he was very far away, the fire in his body building to a fever pitch, bright sparks exploding in his field of vision; he was barely cognizant of Shuuhei gasping his name as he reached completion. His own orgasm rolled over him seconds later, and for some indefinable period of time he knew no more.

 **Author's note: I am thinking of writing a second chapter since I kind of** **ended** **it abruptly.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Before I started writing this second chapter….I got a PM from a person (Not going to say who it was) saying that I insulted Shirosaki in my fanfiction: Fucking Beautiful. Let me make this clear. I don't mind people telling me bluntly how they feel for my stories (I do like reviews good or bad), but to tell me that I was insulting one of my favorite Bleach hollows….that's just hurtful. Besides, you're pretty much reviewing me, not my stories.**

 **Also it doesn't make sense. Why would I let Shirosaki be Ichigo's seme if I was trying to insult him? Never knew labeling Shirosaki as the king in bed would be insulting…**

 **So just please keep in mind what you're writing about a living, breathing person because that fanfiction writer on the other side has feelings too.**

 **XD sorry for all of that information. I just had to write that to let go of some steam.**

 **Enjoy the next chapter!**

 _He came back to himself gradually, aware of the stickiness of his skin, the unaccustomed closeness of another person. Hands on him, and a wet cloth; familiar hands. Shuuhei._

They had made it to the bed during the gap in Shirosei's memories; Shuuhei was sprawled across the rumpled sheets, cheek resting on his knuckles, smiling. He was naked, and every expanse of skin that Shirosei could see was scratched and bruised. His lips were swollen and his hair was in disarray.

Oh…the Captain was gonna kill him.

No other injuries were immediately obvious; to speculate about them would have been pure conjecture, because come on. He was a hollow.

Nevertheless, he could not help but speculate like a human would.

"I'm all right," Shuuhei said, as though he had the hollow's thoughts. "No need for the long face."

"I was-" Shirosei begins, then stops, and starts again. "Kid. I am-"

"'Kid'? I think after all this, Shirosei, you can call me by my given name."

"Shuuhei, then." It feels clumsy on his icy cold tongue, as though he does not deserve it. "I must-if ya require medical assistance-"

"I'm fine," Shuuhei said immediately. He was lying, of course. Even if Shirosei had not been able to view the physical evidence of what he had done, he knew he should have treated Hisagi much better.

"Yer not manifestly not 'fine'," he replied, unable, at that moment, to manufacture a more discreet argument than that.

Shuuhei's smile turned chagrined. "I never could put one past you. Fine, then. I'm sore, but I'm not in dire need of immediate medical assistance. All right?"

It was not, but it would have to do. "Fine."

"Good." Shuuhei rolled onto his back, apparently untroubled by his nudity, and stretched languorously. Shirosei's gaze glanced off the smooth curve of his shoulders, his broad chest and flat stomach, the soft bump of his flaccid penis. He forced his eyes away before Hisagi could catch him looking. There was no need to compound the violations he had already committed. And they were violations, no matter that Shuuhei had willingly submitted to them. His choice, given Shirosei's circumstances and the younger soul reaper's own feelings of friendship and loyalty toward him, could not be anything but constrained.

Privately, Shirosei admitted that he wished that were not the case. He wished that Shuuhei had come to him out of simple desire, and not out of a duty for Kensei's sake or obligation, but he would not express that thought.

Shuuhei was scrubbing his hands through his sweat-soaked hair, apparently either oblivious to or unbothered by Shirosei's perusal. Despite his battered condition, he looked amused. "Well, that was a new experience for me, I'll say that much."

"You have not-you have never been sexually intimate with a hollow before."

"That obvious?" Shuuhei looked up at him, his bruised mouth curled into a small, warm smile, his eyebrow quirked. "No, I haven't. You're the first. You must feel honored." Hisagi murmured lightheartedly

"I do." 'Honored' was a small part of what he was feeling, anyway.

"And you? Have you-" Shuuhei paused, smile widening, hands sweeping in a broad gesture to indicate their ruined clothes, the room in disarray, their bruised and sweaty naked bodies. "-done this before?"

"Nah. Not with anyone, man or woman."

Shuuhei's smile faded. "That was your first time."

"Yes."

"You've never-" He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What have ya to be sorry for?" Shirosei asked, startled, for a moment at least, out of his own guilt-stricken musings.

"Your first time should be-important. Enjoyable…" Shuuhei looked away. "It should be with someone special."

Shirosei considered this. "…Yer an inestimable soul reaper, and the only one I would ….wish to be here with me now." He murmured embarrassingly underneath his breath.

"Thank you, Shirosei ," Shuuhei said finally. Something had softened in his face. "The feeling is entirely mutual."

"Hmpf." The hollow murmured underneath his breath, not going to admit that he was glad to hear that.

He did not intend to sound bitter, but his control was still fragile and something-his phrasing, perhaps, or the tone of his voice-must have communicated more than he meant to. Shuuhei opened his eyes and looked at him. After a moment, he said, "Something on your mind, Shirosei ?"

"Nah."

"Uh huh." Shuuhei did not correct him this time. He sat up; the movements were slow and careful, though his face betrayed no discomfort. That meant nothing. Shuuhei was skilled at controlling his expressions when he found it necessary. His hands were trembling and there were finger-shaped bruises on his left hip. There was blood on the sheets. Not much, not enough to incite serious concern, but it was there all the same. From the scratches, perhaps. Or perhaps from other injuries.

"You are a terrible liar."

"A-Am not…!"

"I'm going to get it out of you sooner or later, so you may as well save us both some aggravation and tell me now, don't you think?"

"N…No."

"Shuuhei tilted his head with a soft sigh. "I'm waiting."

Shirosei was silent for several moments. He had no real hope that he could outlast the human-stubbornness was one of Shuuhei's defining character traits that he and his other half had, and in any case an explanation was owed-but the words would not fall into place in his mind.

"I-regret what happened," He said finally, his watery voice threatening to break.

God…how he hated feeling such strange human like emotions.

Shuuhei raised his eyebrows. When he spoke, his voice was very bland. "You do?"

"I do. I regret-I regret that I have once again dragged you into this savagery with me. Y-Yer Captain is gonna kill me for hurting ya..I should had spared ya from the pain."

"I see," Shuuhei said. "Shirosei, did it ever occur to you that I might not want to be spared?"

"Huh?"

"I'll rephrase. Do you think I had no idea what would happen when I came here?"

"That is pointless," Shirosei said impatiently. "Clearly ya knew what would happen. That ya made that sacrifice nevertheless is what I regret."

"Sacrifice," Shuuhei said slowly. After a moment, he reached out and, before Shirosei could think to move away, took his hand.

His skin was warm to the touch, and dry. His fingers intertwined with Shirosei's like puzzle pieces locking into place.

It was strange that the contact should seem so significant, in light of recent events. Or perhaps not; deep in the grip of plak tow, Shirosei had lacked sufficient rationality or focus to sense Shuuhei's mind, despite their physical intimacy. Now, however-

Physical sensations came first. A long scratch across the inside of Shuuhei's arm was an irritating itch at the edge of his senses, as was the fresh bruising across the backs of his shoulders. He had bitten the inside of his cheek, and the taste of blood lingered in his mouth. A finger on his left hand had been dislocated; he had realigned it himself at some point before Shirosei regained awareness. The firm mattress was uncomfortable to sit on, a low deep ache and lingering tenderness and it was the _strangeness_ of it, almost, more than the pain-

'Sore' had been, perhaps, a predictable understatement, but Shuuhei had been accurate in his assessment that none of his injuries were dire. Upon consideration, that was to be expected. Shuuhei could be stubborn, but he was no fool. Shirosei allowed himself to relax slightly.

The press of Shuuhei's thoughts was familiar, warm and bright and enchantingly chaotic, the fragmented phrases of his internal monologue and the quick sharp edges of his agile intellect overlying the deep solid bedrock of his fundamental being. His mind warmed to Shirosei's touch, and _oh._

He saw.

"You are," Shuuhei began, and amplified by their physical contact, his thoughts added, _my lover's other half, part of my heart, the other half of my Captain's soul-_

"-my Captain's hollow," he finished out loud, "but also my lover and a treasured ally. There's very little I wouldn't do for you, you must know that."

"Yeah," Shirosei said gruffly, clearly not used to dealing with such emotions. His fingers tightened, and Shuuhei glanced down at their joined hands. His expression turned chagrined, then creased into a slow smile. He did not release Shirosei's hand. His mind did not recoil.

"Yes," he said. "I suppose you do."

Writer's note: Glad I was able to complete this fanfic…and I would love to keep writing about this ship in the near future..possibly a Kensei x Hisagi x Shirosei, but sadly, I suck at writing threesomes. L We'll just have to see.

 **Oh and thanks for all of your reviews on my fanfictions Gypsygrrl! They all me a lot to me and also help me out! ^_^**


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